


i'm the son of all i've done

by tothemoonandbackmydear



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Guess Who's Back?!, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's Mary, M/M, Mary - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:25:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothemoonandbackmydear/pseuds/tothemoonandbackmydear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Hartford woke up in sand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm the son of all i've done

**Author's Note:**

> my hobbies include turning people into children, bringing back the dead, and not finsihing anything.
> 
> so hey, this idea kind of struck me and i really wanted to write it, but dont worry, i will be finishing my other story so yay!
> 
> anyways, i hope you like it.
> 
> title from clear by twenty one pilots
> 
> comments and kudos are loved and looked at fondly

Mary Hartford woke up in sand.

 

She could feel it against her fingers, sticking to her sweaty palms and getting stuck in her hair. The sun was burning the exposed skin on her arms, face, and chest, making everything feel slick and too hot. Her mind was blissfully blank for the first couple of seconds as she basked in the fuzziness of sleep and not being in pain for once. 

 

Then, like a rubber band, everything snapped into crystal focus, memories assaulting and jerking her into full awareness. She gasped as she sprang forward, body weak as she struggled to sit up, eyes wide and searching. She was alone on a small strip of beach, waves lapping behind her, but very obviously alone. 

 

“Calvin.” She breathed, eyes frantic as she looked around for her son, footprints, the beat up old car they had been driving, anything, but she was completely alone. Mary took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart and pressed a hand to her stomach, looking down in surprise when she realized she didn’t feel any blood or pain. Her shirt had slice marks in it, the once lilac fabric turned a dirt brown with long dried blood and what looked like scorch marks. But, the skin underneath was smooth, not a blemish on it. Which, was slightly worrying, seeing as the last memory she had was of herself being cornered by Nathan’s men and bleeding out internally, silently in the passenger seat as Calvin frantically tried to figure out what was wrong. 

 

The breath she sucked in was slightly shakier, but she shook away her fear and focused on what was important; which was finding Calvin, who appeared to have left her on a private beach in god knows where. She felt a slight pang of pride for his ability to dump her so he could run and live and a small pit of fiery anger in her belly at him abandoning her. They needed each other, especially Calvin, the stupid boy was too invested in feelings like fear and desire, he wasn’t as careful as he should be and Mary knew she had to find him before he was caught. She had given up too much for the little bastard to die now, she would not allow it. 

 

Pulling herself to her to her feet, strength coming back to her gradually as she walked up to the bare stretch of road. She glanced left and right before sighing heavily and began to walk in the direction they had been going in the car. 

 

_______

 

“Would you like anything else, ma’am?” The waitress asked, voice friendly as she poured Mary more coffee. Mary smiled and shook her head.

 

“I’m alright, thank you.” She said, wrapping her fingers around the mug and taking a sip, eyes scanning the open newspaper in front of her. 

 

It had been almost a month since she had woken up on the beach alone. She had gotten money from one of her cubby holes in California and made her way towards the East Coast, which was where her and Calvin had been planning on going next. She had a small apartment in a small down in Virginia, a quiet widow without any kids who worked part time at a bookstore. It was a nice town, calm and full of people who knew how to mind their own business. 

 

She has been searching for Calvin, coming up blank when she had searched for his name was a relief because at least he had remembered to change his goddamn name before leaving her for dead. Her search has been coming up empty, mainly because she had nothing to work with. She didn’t know what color his hair or eyes would be, his name, age, what state he was in. It was hard worklooking for someone who did not want to be found and Mary was getting tired. Maybe he was dead, maybe Nathan or Lola or Romero had found him and he was cut into a million piece and scattered to the wind. Maybe he was being tortured as she searched for him and she had no idea. She hated not knowing and most of all, she hated being alone. Calvin was all she had had for the past sixteen years, she was not ready to give him up so easily. 

 

Yawning widely, Mary shuffled her newspaper closed and reached for her wallet to pay for the coffee. 

 

A small group of men huddled at the bar in the diner gave a collective groan as they gestured at the television mounted on the wall. It was playing an Exy game, college level it seemed. Mary spared it a glance, stomach twist in disgust at the stupid sport that was the root of all their problems. 

 

Then, it happened. 

 

She had glanced up at the TV the moment the cameras were flashing over to a player in a horrendous orange jersey, JOSTEN embolized in bright white across the back and the players stats popped up on screen. 

 

Bile bubbled in her throat as she took in the serious face of the player, striking blue eyes staring out at her, auburn hair short on the sides and left curly and free on the top. It fell on his forehead perfectly, cheekbones sharp and nose slightly crooked from being broken multiple times. Scars riddled his face, criss cross lines a faded pink and white on one cheek, ugly, circular twin burns on the other. Tears burned her eyes, whether from shock or from anger, she did not know, but she read the stats quickly when she managed to drag her eyes away from the picture. Palmetto State, South Carolina. Neil Josten, Sophomore. 

She pulled her wallet from her pocket with shaking hands and threw a hand full of bills onto the table, standing gracefully and walking swiftly to her car without waiting for the change. She drove back to the apartment and packed a single bag of clothes, before shutting and locking the door, placing the key outside the landlord's office before getting into her second hand car and beginning the impossibly short distance to South Carolina. To her son, to  _ Nathaniel _ .

 

_________

 

Mary drove through the night and only stopped off once to get a few hours of sleep and to eat before arriving at Palmetto State University, Home of the Foxes. 

 

The campus was bright and alive, that ghastly orange covering almost everything with a few spots of white relief. She parked her car just outside the campus and walked into what seemed to be the lunch area as she scanned the crowds of students eating and talking freely. Her stomach curled in unease and disgust. She always hated college.

 

She asked a passing group of girls with they could oh so kindly point her in the direction of where the Exy stadium would be and they gladly gave her them, stupid mindless teenagers that they were. The anger she had been trying to push down reared its head at the thought of Nathaniel going here, talking to these idiots, playing  _ Exy _ . She was going to kill him the moment she got her hands around his throat. 

 

She walked slowly to the stadium, hands clenching and unclenching as it came into sight. There was a few cars in the parking lot and a bus parked around the side, but other than that it was empty. She went up to the first door she caught sight of. It was nestled into the side of the building, a keypad next to the handle. She pulled out her pickpocket kit anyways and jammed it into the keyhole, she jimmed it quiet and waited till she heard a soft click of the handle unlocking, she left it there and yanked the keypad covering off. She glanced at the exposed wires and buttons before simply yanking it all and the red light blinked off, followed by the sound of the deadbolt sliding free. 

 

Mary pushed the door open silently and moved like a ghost down the hall, the bright fluorescent lights humming noisily. At the end of the hall, she came to a wide open space, orange couches and chairs strewn around in front of an entertainment center and coffee table. A set of doors on the far end of the room indicated where the locker rooms, office, nurse station, and bathrooms were. On the opposite side, another wide hole set in the concrete wall led out into the court. She glanced between the two before deciding to go to the court first. 

The Foxes were out on the court, balls flying and players running in every direction it hurt Mary’s eyes to try and keep track. She tried though, straining to catch sight of the one person she was here for. 

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” A gruff voice spoke up to her left and she snapped her eyes over to where a large man was standing from his spot on the home team's bench. He was actually quite big and had a tribal tattoo down the length of one shoulder and upper arm. He was glaring at her, clipboard hanging by his side. She regarded him blankly, turning her eyes back to the court, but keeping him her peripheral.

 

“I need to speak to Neil Josten.” She said, trying to seem meek and timid as she finally caught sight of her son. She watched as he moved quickly down the court and shot the ball at the goal. The wall behind lit up red and he clacked his stick with two tall boys before moving back into position. The anger she had buried was suddenly burning through her and she clenched her hands into fists, eyes narrowing. While she was laying on a beach in the middle of nowhere, the stupid boy was out here playing a game she had forbidden him from even looking at on television. She wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him right in the middle of that court. 

 

The man was staring at her, eyes narrowed and assessing as he crossed his thick arms over his even thicker chest. 

 

“What for, exactly?” 

 

She turned and smiled at him sweetly, unclenching a hand and pressing it to her chest in what could be seen as surprise.

 

“Why, I’m his mother.”


End file.
